


Razikale's Perspective

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, allusions to rape/non-con, discussion of slavery, discussion of the Circle, magical hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When curiosity gets the better of Anders, he and Fenris find themselves stuck significantly smaller than normal. Now reduced to being inches tall, the two of them must work together to navigate a world that's both so much bigger and smaller than either of them are used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Razikale's Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> I completely blame Tumblr for this story. Pictures of Tiny Anders and Tiny Fenris started showing up on my dash and well - I had to write something. It wasn't supposed to be this long of a story...

The last raider, the leader of the small group they had just vanquished, had fallen into a patch of ivy. He had been a rather handsome fellow who had given the group some trouble because he had actually known how to fight. The man had been fast, but not as fast as Hawke’s daggers.

Anders shook blood from the blade of his staff before using it to poke at the raider. “I’m not getting him.”

“Aw. Come on, Anders,” Hawke whined. “You have the longer arms.”

“And that’s smilax. It’s got nasty thorns. You get him.”

“Please Anders?” Hawke tried puppy eyes. The effect was a little underwhelming considering she was covered in blood.

“I shall get him,” Fenris huffed. “So that the delicate mage does not get scratched.”

“Hey! Those thorns hurt!” Anders protested. “But if you get him, you’ll get scratched and then it’ll be all hissing and twitching ears.”

“I do not hiss.” Fenris crossed his arms and glowered, hissing the words. “Nor do my ears twitch.”

“They’re twitching now.” Anders gave Fenris a cheeky grin and reached out with his staff again. He managed to get his blade under the raiders’ shirt and pried him out of the prickly vines. He dragged the corpse into the open and the knelt to remove a tooled leather pouch. “What’s so important about this pouch?”

“No clue. I just got an urgent request from a collector to get it back. Some Hightown noble type that said it was an old family heirloom.” Hawke shrugged.

“Assuming their family was Tevinter and a Magister,” Fenris grumbled. “Mage, you should leave that be.”

“I’m just taking a peek. No harm done,” Anders ignored Fenris to open the pouch. He didn’t see Fenris’ eyes widen when he got a look at the symbol on the pouch.

“No!” He lit his brands and leapt towards Anders. He slid into Anders and jostled the pouch. A simple black cube flipped from the bag, and Anders caught it in one hand. The cube lit up, and Anders gasped as power slid over him. Fenris inhaled sharply and quickly let go of Anders. As fast as the sensation had shown up, it disappeared.

“Foolish. Stupid. Mage.” Fenris bit out. “That is the marking from a cult of Razikale.”

“An Old God cult? What do they do, wear hoods and dance under the moonlight?”

Fenris scoffed and shoved the cube back into the pouch. “I do not know, mage. I only have heard of them through Danarius. They sent him missives on occasion. “

“Well, let’s not touch the strange Tevinter cube anymore, ok?” Hawke reached down and picked up the pouch. Hawke looked up at the sound of footsteps and then relaxed when Merrill skipped into the clearing. “All clear?”

“I got the last one with my vine.” Merrill chirped. “Oo, did we find the pouch?”

“We did! Time?”

Merrill shook her head. “Already getting dark, Vhenan. Camp out here?”

“I don’t want to walk back in the dark,” muttered Anders. Fenris scoffed. Before the two could start up another bickering fight, Hawke nodded and headed back up the path. Anders scrunched his nose up at Fenris and followed her.

***

The sun hitting the tent fabric woke Anders. It had been the best sleep of his life. He could not remember the last time he was so well-rested and comfortable. The bed he was on was plush and warm, the fabric soft and cozy. Anders rolled over and hoped he didn’t have to get up yet. The sounds of camp filtered in through the thin tent walls and made Anders grumble.

He reached for his pillow to cover his head, his hand patting out. He felt more fabric, but no pillow. Picking his head up, he squinted into the bright light and stilled. The tent was huge, towering over him like a Chantry. He looked down and saw leagues of blankets. His pillow was a tall mountain in the distance. Slowly, he sat up and realized two things:

One. he was tiny.

Two. He was naked.

The smalls he had been wearing were some distance away, tattered cloth lying forgotten on a mound of blankets. He staff was a giant tree. Anders looked around the tent and wondered just what in the void had happened.

The sound of Hawke and Merrill calling for Fenris had him jumping up and beginning to run towards the tent flap. If he was tiny, the elf was probably tiny as well. His forward momentum was interrupted when Hawke stepped into the tent, her foot almost landing on him.

“Anders? Anders? Oh Maker, he’s gone too!” Hawke sounded frantic.

“Hawke! I’m down here!” Anders waved his arms. Hawke didn’t stop, she just twirled around and raced from his tent. Anders followed. Outside was a forest of tall blades of grass. He sprinted towards Fenris’ tent, picking up the sounds of angry yelling from the tent the closer he got.

Inside the tent he found Fenris kicking at his blankets while yelling - his anger visible in every flicker from his brands. Anders skidded to a halt and wondered how to get his attention. He needn’t have worried. Fenris saw him and took off running towards him. Anders let out a panicked scream, turned around, and fled back outside.

He made it almost back to his tent before he was tackled from behind. Fenris rolled him over, pulled his arm back, and punched Anders square in the face. Anders squawked and patted frantically at himself, relieved to discover that he hadn’t had his brain pulled out by the angry elf.

“This is your fault!” Fenris bellowed in Anders face.

“I’m sorry! Whatever I did, I’m sorry! What did I do?” Anders desperately asked.

“I told you not to touch that pouch. But you are a mage, and mages never listen.”

“I listen!” Anders held up his hands. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Bah! Fix it.” Fenris sat up, straddling Anders chest and glaring down at him. “Now.”

“Now? Um.” Anders glanced around worriedly. Hawke and Merrill seemed to be searching for both of them, not realizing Anders and Fenris were still at camp. He was outside, on the ground, naked, with a naked Fenris on top of him. “Fenris?”

“I am waiting, Mage.”

“Can you not sit on me naked? It’s very distracting.”

Fenris stilled. His ears turned bright red and he stumbled backwards. “Kaffas! My clothing!”

“Yeah, mine didn’t change either.” Anders sat up, pressed a hand filled with healing magic to his face, and then started brushing dirt off of him. “My best guess? We need to touch the thing in the pouch again.”

Fenris was busy trying to cover himself with his hands and not looking at Anders. “I will follow you.”

Anders could only snicker. “I know my ass is pretty.” Anders stood and wiggled his hips. Fenris let out a huff of annoyance. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can fix this.”

***

“Alright. When Hawke comes back into camp, we will get her attention,” Anders said. They were sitting outside on a small rock. Fenris had his legs pulled up to his chest and was pointedly not looking at Anders.

“Maybe a fireball? A lightning bolt? Oh! You can climb up her clothes and do your glowy thing.” Fenris sighed at Anders, who glared back. “What? I’m planning.”

“I am quite upset with you, Mage.”

“You know. Half of this is your fault, right? I was just going to look into the pouch. You’re the one that ran at me and knocked that little cube out.”

“You were being stupid.”

“I was curious!”

“Not everything must be touched, Mage. This is how I ended up with these markings. Danarius got curious,” Fenris spit.

“Don’t compare me to him. I’m nothing like that ass.” Anders stood and started pacing. “There’s a big difference between wondering what’s in a pouch and wondering what happens when you stick lyrium under the skin of a living person.”

“It’s a slippery slope, Mage.”

Anders glared at Fenris, who glared right back. Anders had opened his mouth to respond when Hawke and Merrill reappeared. Anders stuck his tongue out at Fenris and turned to face Hawke. He closed his eyes and began to gather his power. He gestured, and a tiny raincloud popped into existence right in front of Hawke’s face. One tiny bolt of lightning hit her nose.

Hawke let out a loud shriek and batted at the storm cloud. Anders took the opportunity to scream, “Hawke!”

“Creators, Hawke! Look!” Merrill was pointing down at Anders - who was hopping up and down. Fenris had come up behind him at some point, and when Merrill began pointing, he activated his brands.

“Sweet Maker. What happened?” Hawke had bent down and was squinting at Fenris. “Fenris? Is that you? Oh Maker. Anders?”

“Hawke?”

Hawke placed her hand on the ground and Anders dragged Fenris over to it. Slowly, both men climbed onto Hawke’s hand. She lifted them to her face. “Did you hit me with a lightning bolt, Anders?”

“I was trying to get your attention. That was a very hard spell.”

Fenris snorted. “It was a waste of energy.”

“It worked.”

“And this should make me feel better, Mage? A tiny lightning bolt does not fix your stupidity.”

Anders threw his arms in the air and let out a yell. He lunged at Fenris and tackled him, almost knocking both of them off Hawke’s hand. They rolled, pummeling each other and spitting curses.

“They’re pretty much unchanged,” Merrill said sadly.

“I feel like I should put them in a jar with holes in the lid. Oh. Do we have one?” Hawke’s words caused both me to stop fighting. “Are you done?”

Anders shoved Fenris off of him and lay panting. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m done.” Fenris nodded and curled up into a ball.

“What happened? Anders?”

“I think it was that cube. I woke up like this. We tried touching it again, but it obviously didn’t work.”

“Merrill? Any thoughts?”

Anders watched Merrill slowly shake her head. His shoulders drooped. He glanced over at Fenris and saw that he was rocking, his knees tucked under his chin. Unbidden, guilt filled Anders. “I’m sorry,” he said without thinking.

Fenris turned his head to look at Anders. One of his eyes was swelling shut and bruises dotted his shoulders. Anders was aware of his own bruises and cuts from their fist fight. Guilt bled into shame. “I’m sorry I was curious and for punching you.”

Fenris didn’t say anything, just nodded. Hawke sighed, her breath a warm breeze. “So. What now?”

“We need clothes, and I should tend to our bruises. Plus I am sure Fenris is as hungry as I am.” Anders gave Hawke a sheepish smile.

***

“This is embarrassing,” Fenris groused.

“It’s not so bad. Pounce used to ride in my pack.” After breakfast, Anders and Fenris had been tucked into one of Hawke’s belt pouches. The walk jostled them and interrupted Anders’ attempts at turning half a handkerchief into clothing. He finally gave up and folded it into a long rectangle and wrapped it around his body. “Here Fenris.” He was holding out the other half of the handkerchief.

“I am not wearing that.”

“What? This is prime Fereldan fashion. Or it used to be. Come on. Up you go. Let’s get you covered.” Anders ignored Fenris’ angry squirming and instead managed to wrap the other half of the handkerchief around him. “They called them kilts.”

“Bah.”

“You look good in it.”

“I hate you.”

“Want me to heal your bruises now?”

“You’ll just do what you want. Why bother to ask?” Fenris sat down and sulked.

Anders shrugged and also sat down. He healed his swollen cheek and bruised neck before yawning and curling up. “Wake me when we reach Kirkwall.”

“I thought you were going to heal me, Mage.” Fenris’ voice was filled with outrage.

“You didn’t say yes. I’m not forcing my icky magic on you. Clothing, yes. Icky magic, no.” Anders tucked himself up against the wall of the pouch. The rhythmic jostle was almost soothing now that he was lying down.

Fenris’ face appeared over his shoulder. “I am injured.” He poked at Anders’ shoulder. “Heal me, please.”

Anders reached behind him with his hand and pushed a general healing spell into Fenris. He frowned and rolled over when Fenris inhaled sharply. “Fenris?”

“What was that?”

“A general healing spell. One of the full-body ones. I don’t usually use them on you because you get wiggly and cranky.” Anders pulled himself to his knees and inched closed to Fenris. “Did it hurt?”

“No.” Fenris’ response was short and curt.

“Hmm.” Anders reached out and brushed one finger over Fenris’ cheek, his healing spell slipping over dark skin and healing bruises and cuts. Fenris let out a soft sigh and then stiffened.

“It feels strange.” Fenris rubbed at his cheek.

“Good strange or bad strange?” Anders sat back and folded himself into a cross-legged position.

Fenris’ face was scrunched up, as if he had bitten into a sour piece of fruit. “Good. I am unsure how I feel about it.”

Anders wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He watched Fenris sulk, the elf’s ears twitching gently. He thought about pressing the issue, but didn’t want another fist fight. Like it or not, he and Fenris were stuck in this together, and Justice was informing him, quite loudly, that he should display some maturity.

Instead of prodding at Fenris, he stood and reached for the lip of the pouch. He was just able to curl his fingers around the edge and pull himself up. He could hear Fenris calling his name, but ignored the noise as he knocked the pouch flap open. A look around showed them in Lowtown just inside the city gates. The buildings were massive. Each stone was taller than Anders. Anders ducked back into the pouch and slid down to sit next to Fenris.

“We’re in Lowtown. I suppose we should decide where to stay before Hawke makes that decision for us.”

“I am going home. She cannot keep me in her home. I am no pet.” Fenris grumbled, pulling his legs up.

“I rather want to head back to my clinic, but I don’t think I can pull the books down by myself. Plus, there are rats the size of cats down there.” Anders rubbed at the raw hem of the handkerchief kilt. “I’ll get eaten without my staff.”

Fenris snorted at that. “So stay with Hawke.”

“She has a mabari, Fenris. A mabari. That dog will eat me. I can feel it. Can I come with you?”

“What?”

“Your house is big and...big. And full of corpses, yes. But it also has that old library. Oh! Now there’s a thought,” Anders tapped his chin. “I could sneak into the Gallows. Wouldn’t be hard. Who can see me?”

“Sneak in and do what?” Fenris was gaping at him.

“Research in the library. I mean...how would they hold me? I can slip through any cell bars. And I’m so small, they can’t make me Tranquil.” Anders sprawled back in the pouch and stared up at the opening. “I could set fire to Meredith’s desk.”

“Mage.”

“Oo. You know, when I was in Ferelden’s Circle, Cullen was there, right? The Knight-Captain? Once, I put itching powder in his smalls. You should have seen his face!”

“Mage…”

“And another time, I froze them. I got a whipping for that. Unauthorized use of magic. Totally worth it.” Anders was grinning.

“Mage...did you really freeze Cullen’s smalls?”

“I did.”

“And they whipped you for that?” Fenris gave him a disbelieving look.

“Well, it was shortly after one of my escape attempts. I was young. An apprentice. The First Enchanter made some noise about me being high spirited, blah blah blah. The Knight Commander had me whipped and denied meals for a week. I waited till after my harrowing and escaped again.” Anders waved his hand.

Fenris was quiet. Anders turned to look at him and Fenris narrowed his eyes. “You will stay with me, Mage. You will not go to the Gallows. You will not create havoc.”

“As if you care,” Anders muttered, squawking as the pouch was jostled. “Hey! Have a care!”

Hawke’s face appeared over the opening. “Sorry. So...my house?”

“Mine,” Fenris said imperiously.

Hawke rolled her eyes. “Anders?”

“He is coming with me.” Fenris raised an eyebrow - a gesture lost on Hawke as she couldn’t see his face that clearly.

“No killing each other. I’ll stop for some food on the way there. We have your things so don’t worry.”

“Hawke. I don’t think you should talk to your pouch in Lowtown. You are getting looks,” Merrill’s worried voice filtered into the pouch. There was some whispering and then the pouch was closed again and the jostling started back up.

***

“Alright. There’s a bowl of water near the fireplace for you to clean up in. I put down a flannel for you to dry off on. There’s cheese, sausage, fruit, and bread on this plate. I’ve got it up on the foot stool and covered with a cloth - can you reach it?”

“Yeah Hawke. We can reach it. Or at least I can.” Anders was tired and Hawke was hovering, quite literally, over them.

“Wine?” Fenris kicked at a bottle sitting near his chair. The bottle didn’t move.

“Is that wise?”

Fenris lit his markings and growled. “Hawke, give him so wine so I can rest tonight,” Anders begged.

“Fine, but I’m pouring it into this smaller bowl. And don’t let him drink it all,” Hawke ordered. Anders shrugged as Fenris went to see if he could climb up to get to the food.

“Anders. Your staff is by the fireplace. Fenris, your sword is next to Anders’ staff. Your clothing is stacked on the table. Can I get you anything else?” Merrill knelt down and poked a finger at Anders, who batted at it in annoyance. “And can you get onto the bed?”

“We will figure it out,” Fenris said haughtily. Hawke huffed and re-corked the wine.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can. I want to ask around about this first. Please don’t kill each other.” Anders and Fenris ignored Hawke and Merrill in favor of beginning to explore the area near the fireplace. Hawke gave a huff as Merrill pulled her away and out of the room.

Fenris’ room had always been a good size, but now it was a mansion in its own right. The fireplace stretched out in front of them. A large fire burned merrily and kept a big, deep bowl filled with water warm. The foot stool was climbable thanks to carved wooden legs, and Anders shimmied his way up one leg to perch on the edge and push the cloth covering the plate over. He picked up a grape that was now bigger than his head and pondered how eating it was going to work.

He turned around with the grape just in time to see Fenris lose his footing and fall into the bowl of wine. There was a splash and an angry yell. From Anders’ vantage, he could see Fenris flailing madly.

“Get your feet under you! Blasted elf.”. He tossed the grape to the floor and then slid down the footstool leg. He jogged to the bowl and reached it just in time for Fenris to stand up.

The elf was soaked with wine - his hair had turned a reddish purple and his skin was burnished. He licked his arm and then disappeared into the bowl. Anders pulled himself up to the lip of the bowl and saw Fenris bending over and scooping up wine.

“Fenris,” Anders sighed. “Don’t make me get in there to get you.”

“So don’t, Mage,” Fenris grouched. “Leave me to my drinking.”

“As tempting as it is to let you marinate yourself, I must say no.” Anders unwound his make-shift kilt and folded it up. He rolled his eyes when he realized Fenris’ kilt was in the wine with him, but figured he could wash it while he washed the elf. He hoisted himself up and then into the bowl.

The wine was room temperature and smelled like cherries - a deep rich heady aroma that tickled Anders’ nose and made his mouth water. He eyed Fenris and sloshed over to him.

“Come on. We’re going to bathe.”

“I do not want a bath, Mage. Leave me alone.” Fenris shoved at Anders. Fenris fell backwards into the wine and gave a deep sigh, sinking deeper into the dark liquid. “What is the use?”

Anders crouched down and tried to catch Fenris’ gaze. “Fenris?”

“What is the use, Mage? Once again, I have fallen prey to magic. Once again, my life is not my own. I may as well be a slave again. A pet. An experiment that some Mage may poke to gain knowledge best left unknown.” He leaned back against the side of the bowl. “Look at us. Unable to fight, to fend for ourselves.” He gave a sniff and turned his head. “Leave me.”

“No,” Anders whispered. He straightened up and shook his head again. “No.”

“I do not want you here,” Fenris growled. “I do not need you or your help.”

“I’m not leaving you alone. I created this mess, I’m staying by you until this is fixed.”

“You are an example of all that is wrong with magic,” Fenris screamed. Anders flinched, but stayed where he was. “Leave me,” Fenris whispered as he slumped. “Please?”

“Come on, Fenris. Let’s get cleaned and then eat.” Anders wrapped an arm around Fenris and pulled him up. Fenris didn’t resist, just drooped against Anders. Anders hoisted Fenris up and pushed. “Climb over, Fenris, please?”

Fenris climbed out and just stood by the bowl and dripped wine on the flannel. Anders unwound the now-soaked handkerchief and tossed it into the bowl of water. Then he took Fenris’ hand and led him to the large bowl.. He picked him up and carefully lifted him over the lip before clamoring in after him.

Fenris was passive the entire time, his face blank and eyes dull. Anders scrubbed him with the corner of a cloth left draped over the bowl. When the wine was gone from his hair and skin, he helped him out of the bowl and onto the long piece of flannel.

He left Fenris there on the flannel while he climbed back up the footstool for food. He tossed bits of cheese and sausage down onto the flannel and followed that up with an apple slice and a half of a piece of bread. Satisfied that there was enough food, Anders shimmied back down and pressed Fenris to eat.

Anders was worried for Fenris. He never made eye contact and he never complained. He mechanically ate what was handed to him. Anders chewed slowly, thoughtfully, before cleaning up the bits of food left over.

All that was left was to go to bed. There was the option of sleeping on the flannel. It was large enough to wrap themselves in and near the fire. However, the bed would smell like home to Fenris.

“Want to try the bed?” Anders asked, attempting to pull a response from Fenris. All he got was a shrug. “I think it’ll be more comfortable. Come on, loop your arms around my neck and I’ll carry you on my back.”

Once Fenris was secure on his back, Anders started the trek across the room to the bed. It was a long walk, the room bigger than he remembered. There were mushrooms to avoid and large shards of glass to carefully skirt around. At one point they encountered a beetle, but the bug simply continued on its way and ignored them.

The bed was tall, but a pillow was propped against the side of the bed and Anders thought he could navigate it. At the worst, they could sleep on the pillow. The climb was arduous. Fenris was heavy and unmoving, and Anders was tired from the long day. His arms trembled and his legs felt like dead weight. By the time they reached the top, Anders was exhausted.

Despite his exhaustion, he carefully lowered Fenris to the bed. “Hey. We’re here.”

Fenris lay quietly and curled in on himself.

“You know, back when I was an apprentice i saw a senior enchanter turn themselves blue. It lasted a month.” Anders settled down behind Fenris, hesitated, and then wiggled closer. “Once, an apprentice lost control of a fireball and burnt all the hair off their body. Another one lost control of a frost spell and they lost a finger. The most famous mistake involved four mages and a spell that made them all change gender. It lasted for six months and only three turned back.”

“What happened to the fourth?” Fenris asked, his voice raspy.

Anders hesitated. “They were raped by a templar and went abomination.”

Fenris moved away from Anders and then sat up. “Truly?”

“I was...not with the other mages when it happened. I heard it, um, through rumors. But yes. Truly.” Anders propped his head up.

“Where were you?” Fenris asked.

Anders rolled to his back and closed his eyes. “Do you really care to know? It’s really not important.”

“Just tell me, Anders”

“I was in solitary.” Anders clenched his jaw. “Alright? I was in solitary, and I heard my guards gossiping.”

Fenris rocked on the bed. “Solitary.”

Anders shrugged and rolled over to face away from Fenris. He tugged his knees up to his chest and stared at the blanket. “The Knight Commander was trying to keep from making Tranquil. So he locked me in solitary for a year. Whether he knew what happened down there or not is besides the point. I came out of there barely able to talk, afraid of the dark, and...anyway…”

Quiet descended on the room. Anders focused on how plush the blanket was. The entire bed was soft, like what he imagined a cloud would feel like. From behind him, he heard shuffling.

“Anders?”

Anders sighed. “Yes Fenris?”

Fenris let out a slow breath. “I’m scared.”

Anders rolled back over to look at Fenris. “You know. I’m scared too.”

Fenris inched forward till Anders could feel the warmth from his body. “You do not seem scared. You seem to treat this as an adventure.”

“It is, in a way. It’s interesting to see the world in a different light. But there’s no telling how long we’ll be like this. What will happen to my clinic? The mages? Hawke and our friends?”

Fenris’ breath puffed against his shoulder. “What is truly frightening is how our fates are being left to them. You do know what this means, correct?”

Anders scrunched up his face. “Sebastian lecturing us about the sins of magic?”

“Merrill’s attempts at blood magic?”

“Isabela trying to oogle our bits?”

“Varric shall write this into a story.”

Both men fell silent. Anders shook himself. “If they get too annoying, we can hide.”

Fenris snorted at that. “If Danarius comes looking for me…”

“I can set his feet on fire for you.”

“Mage.”

“Elf.”

Both men shared a commiserating look. Fenris patted at the bed. “At least this is comfortable. I thank you for taking care of me this evening.”

Anders smiled. “Think nothing of it.”

“Yes well...I suppose...I suppose we should…” Fenris sighed.

“We should look on the bright side,” Anders said.

“Hmm?”

“At least we won’t have to go to the Bone Pit anymore.”

Their laughter carried through the room.

***

Anders turned his head and buried his face in soft hair. The sound of purring surrounded him, and he smiled as he nuzzled against the soft hair and brushed his hand over one slender hip. It was the feeling of smooth skin under his fingers that had him lifting his head. Fenris lay curled up against Anders’ chest, and he was purring gently as he slept. Anders put his head back down and wondered what to do about this. Surely Fenris would be a tiny bit upset that they were cuddling.

The bed stretched out around them, a soft warm oasis in the large disheveled room. Anders stared at the blankets and pillows for a bit, trying to ignore Fenris. He turned his attention to the ceiling and the large hole that stretched across a quarter of the room. He could see the sky brightening, clouds, and birds flying. One flew particularly close to the hole, and Anders inhaled at the sight.

His inhale disturbed Fenris, who lifted his head and looked around. His white hair was disheveled and one cheek was reddened from where it had been pressed against Anders. He stared at Anders, confusion in his gaze. “What?”

“There was a bird. Right there. So close.” Anders whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Are you holding me?”

“I woke up like this. I promise I didn’t do anything to you last night.” Anders held his hands up, fear spiking through him. “I can move…”

“Mage. You are being loud. I am tired and comfortable and not ready to get up.” Fenris dropped his head and yawned, his jaw cracking.

“So…”

“Kaffas, yes, we may lay here like this.”

“You were purring.” Anders almost slapped himself when the words popped out.

Fenris picked his head back up and frowned at Anders. “I do not purr.”

“You were, though. Purring…”

“I do not purr. Danarius did not allow it.” Fenris narrowed his eyes. ‘You are mistaken.”

“No...no I’m not. You were curled up against me and purring. It was nice. I wasn’t complaining.” Anders risked running a hand over Fenris’ back. Fenris let out a purr. His eyes grew wide at his purring stuttered.

“I…”

“I like it.” Anders returned to watching the sky. He continued to stroke Fenris’ back absentmindedly. “It’s soothing.” He waited for Fenris to get angry, yell, or activate his brands, but nothing happened. He glanced back down and saw Fenris watching him. “What?”

“I purred.”

“You did.”

Fenris’ ears twitched. “Slaves do not purr.”

Anders shrugged. “Well, elves do. And you’re not a slave. Right?”

Fenris relaxed against Anders’ chest. A few breaths and Anders felt Fenris’ head shake. “No, Mage, I am not.”

Fenris relaxed back into sleep. Anders wasn’t sure what to do with a sleeping, cuddly, murderous elf that purred. After much internal discussion with Justice, he simply did nothing. He watched the sky’ color lighten from deep blue to lighter blue. He listened to the Chantry bells and the sounds of servants waking and beginning their work. When the bells rang again, he turned his attention to Fenris and how to best wake him.

All it took was for Anders to shift and say his name. Fenris’ head lifted and he squinted at Anders. “Mm?”

“Hungry?” Anders knew that he could use some breakfast.

Fenris contemplated the question. “Yes.” He said finally.

“Come on. We have to get down off the bed and back across the room to where the food is.” Anders said as he sat up. Fenris slid down his chest with a grumble. “Ah. Broody in the morning as well.”

“I am not broody,” Fenris groused.

“How’s your head? Any hangover?”

“Don’t be daft, mage. I barely drank any wine.” Fenris crawled to the edge of the bed. “Fasta vass. I wish I had clothes.”

Anders tore his eyes away from Fenris’ ass and cleared his throat. He winced when Fenris shot him a scowl. “At least you’re handsome?”

“Mage.”

“And very fit.”

“Mage…”

“Obviously it comes from wielding that massive sword.”

“Mage!” Fenris grabbed Anders’ arm. “Less blathering, more moving.”

“Right! I think the best way down is by that pillow I climbed up. Then we just cross the room and food.” Anders headed for the pillow and scooted to the edge of the bed. His feet touched the pillow and he let go of the bed. Fenris peered down at him and Anders held up a hand. “Take my hand.”

“I do not require your aid.”

“You’re shorter than I am. Take my hand.”

“I do not need help, Mage.”

“Andraste’s knicker weasels, Fenris. Take my hand so you don’t fall and break something.”

Fenris ignored Anders and slithered over the side of the bed. His feet dangled, and Anders watched as he lowered himself down. Fenris let go of the bed when he was almost touching the pillow, but failed to take into account that the pillow was not a hard surface. His feet sunk into the soft, plush surface, and he lost his balance, tipped backwards, and landed with a loud “oof.” Anders stood over him and held out a hand. Not saying a word, Fenris took it.

“Not a word, mage.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Anders released Fenris’ hand and started down the pillow. He heard grumbling behind him, but didn’t turn around. “I saw a beetle last night.”

“A what?”

“A beetle. It looked like it was the size of a mabari.” Anders reached the floor and carefully stepped off the pillow. “Luckily, it didn’t look aggressive.”

“It is a bug. How dangerous could a bug be?” Fenris hopped off the pillow and started across the room. “What is all...this…”

“Dust. Broken glass. Dirt...wine stains…” Anders shrugged as he followed Fenris.

“I do not recall the room being this messy.” Fenris was muttering to himself. “I had picked up the glass after I stepped on that last piece.”

“Well, you missed a bunch of it. See? There’s an entire pile right there.” The glass pile was composed of tiny shards that, to Anders and Fenris, were the size of daggers or swords. “That would get stuck in your foot and get infected.”

“Bah. You would heal it.”

“That’s not the point! The point is that you shouldn’t have glass on your floor when you walk around barefoot.” Anders huffed but slowed down by the pile. He bent down and picked up a shard and waved it. “Makes a good knife.”

Fenris picked up a slightly longer shard of glass. He examined it closely. “If we find something to wrap one end, then yes, they would be good weapons. If not, we’ll just end up cutting our hands.”

“What about the flannel Hawke left by the fireplace? We could cut some off and wrap the glass with it.”

“Leather would be best.”

“I would have a hair tie in a pocket or perhaps a pouch,” Anders said.

“Did they not stack our clothing and such on the table?” Fenris asked. Anders frowned.

“Shit. They did. Well...I guess I’m climbing up the table.”

“Seriously?”

Anders grinned. “Can’t be harder than climbing down a tower.”

***

“I was wrong. This is terrible,” Anders called from the leg of the table. He was inching his way up using the carvings on the table leg as hand and foot holds. He reached up and grabbed at a jutting piece of wood. He pulled himself up and rolled his eyes at what he was holding onto. The table legs were carved with dragons and he, was hanging onto what looked like a horn. “This table is ugly.”

“Stop chattering and keep climbing.” Fenris urged from the ground.

Anders muttered but reached up for another hand hold. The muttering continued as he inched his way up the table leg and onto the table. Once there he stretched out and took a moment to simply breathe. Then he was up and walking to the pile of clothing and armor.

His coat and pauldrons lay folded next to his pants, tunic, and smalls. Anders walked past them to where Fenris’ leggings and tunic were folded and his armor stacked. Something was niggling at him, some oddity that should have been apparent. He leaned against Fenris’ breastplate and gazed at the clothing.

“Where are your smalls?” Anders had rushed to the edge of the table to yell down at Fenris.

“I don’t wear any,” Fenris called up, his voice waspish. “Why?”

“I...oh.” Anders wasn’t sure what to do with that tidbit of information. He shook his head and opted to ignore it for now. Instead he quickly walked back to where his pants were and began rummaging. It took a few minutes to locate a pocket and then crawl into the pocket, then realize he didn’t have a hair tie in his pocket. He moved to his coat and repeated the process, crawling into his coat pocket to check.

Finally, he approached his pouches. One of them was holding vials of lyrium and healing potions. That one he ignored. The next held herbs he had found. The third had one hair tie. The long leather was soft from use and the color of dirt. He wrapped it around him like a harness and returned to the edge of the table.

It would be a long climb down. Unless...Anders moved to where his pants sat. He grabbed the hem of one leg and dragged it to Fenris’ armor. There was a hole near the hem, one just big enough to hook on one of the spikes that decorated Fenris’ breastplate.

“Mage? Are you alright?” Fenris’ voice floated up to him. Anders pursed his lips at the worry in Fenris’ voice. He hurried back to his pants and began to push them to the edge of the table.

“Watch out down there,” Anders yelled as he shoved his pants over the side of the table. His shirt went with it. A long stretch of brown and tan cloth slid over the side of the table. Anders’ pants caught on the breastplate, and he held his breath and scuttled to the side. The breastplate didn’t even move.

“What are you doing, mage?”

“Be right down!” Anders grabbed ahold of his pants and began to climb down. Halfway down, he let go and slid along the pants and landed on his shirt. He laughed, delighted that his idea worked. Fenris stood to the side, a scowl on his face. Anders shot him a grin. “Ta da!”

“That was incredibly dangerous. What if you had hurt yourself? What if the pants didn’t stay on whatever they are attached to?” Fenris fussed at him.

Anders stood up and unwound his hair tie, showing it to Fenris. “I’m fine, Fenris. I would have been fine.”

“At that height, you could have died.”

Anders opened his mouth to make a joke and saw the hint of fear in Fenris’ gaze. He closed his mouth and instead held out the hair tie to Fenris. When Fenris didn’t take it, he rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Fenris. You’re right.”

“Just...be careful in the future, Mage.” His voice was gruff. “I would be put out with you if you were injured.”

Anders sat down, not wishing to upset Fenris further. He watched as Fenris took the length of leather and held it up to the long piece of glass. “Give me your smaller piece.”

Anders handed over his shard of glass. Fenris placed the leather on the ground, held it flat with one hand, and began to split it down the center - splicing it into two thinner pieces. As he worked, Anders looked around the room. His gaze landed on his staff leaning against the wall. Fenris was now splicing what he had just halved into another half, leaving him with a thin bit of leather. Confident that Fenris was busy, Anders stood and walked to his staff.

The enchantment could be felt as he pressed on the wood. His magic surged with the addition of that enchantment. It was a warm buzz in his blood. He looked closely at the staff and ran his hands over the wood. Along the blade was wound a thick leather thong. Above that, the wood was rough - obviously from Anders using the blade to block attacks. A long sliver of wood stuck out from just above the thong. Anders grabbed it and pulled. It snapped and left him holding a length of birch almost long enough to be a full staff.

Grasping the wood with both hands, Anders concentrated. He could feel the enchantment, now weaker, in the piece of wood. It wasn’t the surge of power he had felt from the staff, but it was enough to help him focus. He tapped it on the ground and grinned when the piece held.

“Anders. What are you doing?” Fenris sounded peeved.

“Look! A piece of my staff!” Anders quickly walked back to Fenris. “The enchantment still works.”

Fenris took the wood from Anders and examined it. He sat and took the narrow dagger-sized blade of glass and notched the end of the wood. Using a length of thin leather, he affixed the blade to the stick. “There. You are now armed.”

“Maker, Fenris. You’re amazing. Look at your sword,” Anders said in excitement. The length of glass Fenris had picked now sported a leather-wrapped grip. “How does it feel?”

“It is light, which is disconcerting. However, the glass is strong and sharp. I can defend us against many...ah...things.”

“Spiders, rats, cats...dogs…” Anders listed. “Wasps, lizards, toes…”

“Mage,” Fenris said in exasperation.

“Just a minute ago you used my name.”

“A minute ago you were being intelligent by finding yourself a weapon. Now you are being ridiculous. Toes will not attack us.”

“Well…”

“We are not going to the Gallows, Mage.” Fenris rolled his eyes. “I am hungry.”

“Fine. Food and then we’ll head downstairs. Maybe we should try to pack a snack?”

“If the grapes are as big as my head, I am unsure how we will pack anything.” Fenris wandered over to the stool where the food was being held. A grape sat on the floor and Fenris poked it with his sword. “Better that we eat our fill and try to return tonight.”

“Wouldn’t want Hawke to worry, right?” Anders put his staff down and began to climb up the side of the stool. “The apple slices went mushy and brown. How about cheese and hard sausage?”

“Is there bread?” Fenris placed his sword next to Anders’ staff.

“There is.” Anders wrestled a slice of bread to the edge of the plate. “It’s a big piece.”

“Can you not rip it in two?” Fenris asked.

Anders rolled his eyes and began to fight with the bread. A bit of grunting and he had tore the slice into two pieces. He shoved one piece over the edge of the plate and followed it up with some grapes, a few pieces of sausage, and a slice of cheese. Then he shimmied down the stool.

“This will be enough. Thank you, Anders.” Fenris sat and picked up a grape. He examined the red fruit closely before biting into it. Grape juice splashed over his face and down his chest. Anders watched in amusement as Fenris closed his eyes and took another bite.

“Good?” Fenris’ hum of pleasure was the only answer Anders received. He sat and picked up a grape as well, taking a bite. He found himself covered in sticky sweet grape juice. “We’ll need to wash off after this.”

“I never enjoyed a grape as much as this one.” Fenris licked his fingers and reached for another grape.

“You really like fruit.”

Fenris wiped his chin and took another bite. He chewed and swallowed before responding. “I do. Fruit was a treat when i was a slave. A gift Danarius bestowed only rarely.”

“Do you eat a lot of it now?” Anders picked up a large piece of cheese and broke a small section off of it.

“No…” Fenris frowned at the grape. “I find eating difficult. Without somebody to tell me...fasta vass...as if I require a command to eat. To sleep. To shit.”

“Hey.” Anders put the cheese down and scooted over to Fenris. “Hey. I can see how that would be hard.”

“No...you couldn’t possibly understand.”

“That’s not what I said. I said I could see how it would be hard. I don’t know what it would be like, but I can acknowledge that it would be difficult to go from a structured life to an unstructured one.” Anders shrugged. “You know, the Circle has this bell they ring for meals? Twice a day. Same time every day. After a while you just knew when it wouldl ring. You went to the dining hall, got your plate, ate, and then went to service. Morning and evening.”

Fenris grunted and took another bite of grape. Anders waited to see if he’d speak. When he didn’t, Anders continued. “When I first joined the Wardens there were no bells. Plus, I was starving all the time. The Joining does that - something about it just makes your body work overtime. But there were no bells to tell me to eat. I would try to hold out till mealtime and then find myself in the larder stuffing cheese in my face. The first time I was caught I thought I’d be in trouble. I wasn’t. Oghren just grabbed a loaf of bread and took a bite. Told me that Elissa had been a big eater during the Blight.”

“Did you ever get past it? That need for the bells?”

“Eventually. Of course now I just get busy and forget to eat.”

Fenris huffed at that. “Mage, you give your food away. Do not lie to me. At least now you cannot do that. You should eat that cheese.”

Anders rolled his eyes, but picked the cheese back up. “So...clean ourselves and then head downstairs?”

“If we must,” Fenris groused. “Not the cleaning part, the delving into the magic part.”

“I want to try. Better than sitting around waiting for Hawke to fix this.”

***

“How will we get back up the stairs?” Fenris was brushing himself off after sliding over the last stair.

“Climb. Between the two of us, we can manage.” Anders straightened his kilt and looked around. “When are you planning on cleaning this place?”

“Never. It is Danarius’. I refuse to take care of it.”

“Delightful. This reminds me of some of the caves we’ve gone hiking through with Hawke. I hope there aren’t any tiny dragons or bitty blood mages lurking in that forest of mushrooms,” Anders said as he set off across the room.

“Haha, Mage. Very funny. The worst you will find here is dust.”

“And beetles, ants, possibly a spider or rat,” Anders listed off.

“My mansion does not have rats.”

Anders glanced back at Fenris. “I thought it was Danarius’ mansion.”

“I hate you,” Fenris muttered.

“No you don’t.”

“Ugh. No, I don’t.”

Anders shut up after that. The room was large and filled with many obstacles. Parts of the floor had broken tile, there were piles of dust, desiccated corpses, beetles, broken glass, and old blood stains. The mushrooms seemed to host most of the creatures that lived in the estate. A small mouse scampered from between two thick stalks, its brown coat and long tail flashing by as it dashed to safety. Tiny ants marched past them, the line snaking into the mushrooms. Fenris snorted when Anders pointed them out.

In one section, the floor had developed a hole. Anders skirted it, his staff held at the ready. When nothing leapt out, he relaxed. There didn’t see to be anything in the mansion worse than beetles, ants, and the occasional mouse.

The door to the library loomed in front of them. Anders turned his head to grin at Fenris and walked straight into a spider web. The web was slung across the open doorway, a dense mat of strands that tore as Anders wrenched himself back.

“Andraste’s tits,” Anders swore as he tried to brush off the webbing.

A hiss had Anders and Fenris looking up. A large spider - brown and furry with wide front limbs dropped from the door jam and charged at them. It hissed again and reared up on its back legs. Anders shrieked and backpedaled.

“Oh sweet Maker,” Anders yelped.

“Get behind me, Mage. Kaffas, you know how to fight these.”

“But I’m covered in webbing! Ugh. No shirt…” Anders groused even as he brandished his staff. A ball of flame coalesced and flew at the spider, who took the brunt on its abdomen. Fenris lit his brands and charged, swinging his glass sword in front of him. The spider gave another hiss and scurried to the side, dodged the charge, and swept out at Fenris. Fenris dodged the raking legs and swung. He grazed the legs and earned a piercing shriek from the spider.

Anders gestured and a wave of ice encased the spider. Fenris smashed into it with an overhead swing. There was a shattering noise as the the sword met the ice. Ice sprayed in every direction and the spider went limp. Fenris panted and turned to check on Anders. “Are you well? Did you get injured?”

“I’m fine. Just some webbing. Sorry about that.”

Fenris huffed and walked towards Anders while glaring. “You are a mage and should be behind me, not in front. I cannot protect you if you insist of leading us around.”

“What? I was doing fine!”

“You shrieked like a wounded mabari. I feared you would be hurt.”

Anders crossed his arms over his chest. “You feared for me?”

“Yes. Yes I did.”

“Me? You were worried about me?”

“Yes you, my companion and friend. Or have you forgotten how often we see each other, how we guard each other in battle, and how we play cards at the Hanged Man?” Fenris’ chest bumped against Anders’ crossed arms. “Are you denying how you have cared for me through this trying time?”

“Er...no. Not at all. I just thought…”

“You think too much. You poke and prod and think and do not ever see what is before you.” Fenris poked Anders’ arm. “If you had looked, you would have avoided the web. If you had been patient, you would have not opened the pouch.”

“I thought it was because I was curious like all mages.”

Fenris gripped Anders and shook him. “Why did the mages go to the Fade? Curiosity. Why do mages talk to demons? Curiosity. Why did Danarius put these lyrium lines under my skin? Curiosity. Do you see a pattern?”

“I didn’t join with Justice out of curiosity.” Anders pointed out.

“No. That was, apparently, misplaced honor. Or perhaps stupidity. Or perhaps both. Vishante Kaffas. You are blind.” Fenris glared up at Anders, who was allowing himself to be shaken like a doll.

“I just...always assumed…”

“You assumed?”

“Well, you go on about magic so much. And demons. And mages. And I thought that...you...and I were just...traveling companions.” Anders said.

“And is that why you healed me so often?”

“Well I wouldn’t leave you injured. I always hoped you’d thank me and perhaps we could...talk.”

Fenris’ lips twitched. “Truly, Anders, you are too caught up in your healing and manifesto. But we should see if we can find anything in the library.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that and then put me to work! How will I concentrate on anything but this conversation?”

Fenris grinned. “Perhaps another thing to add to my list. Easily distracted.”

“Oh...shut up.” Anders grumbled and walked through the door.

The library was in better shape than the atrium. While there were blood stains on the books, there was minimal actual damage. Anders stared up at the tall shelves and wondered how he could possibly look through every book in the room.

His mind was put at ease when he saw the small brass labels affixed to the shelves detailing the general topic of that shelf. There were shelves talking about elemental magic, thaumaturgy, blood magic, history, and political discourse. There was even a shelf filled with books on elven anatomy. Anders, out of curiosity, pulled out a book simply labeled “The Anatomy of the Elf.”

The book fell to the floor and landed with a thud. Anders scrambled down the shelves, opened the book, smoothed the page, and started to read. Fenris wandered over and glanced at what Anders was reading. “What is it about?”

“Well, this is the introduction. Something about elven stature and anatomy. There’s a lot about the authors and their education. Let me turn the page.” Anders stepped off the book and grabbed the page to turn it. He climbed back up and began to read again. He got halfway down the page and started choking.

“Mage? Anders? What is it?”

“Not this book. We don’t need it. No.” Anders gibbered. “I’ll just…”

“What is it about?” Fenris narrowed his eyes.

“Elves.”

“And?”

“Elves.”

“Anders. Do not make me work for this. Tell me what the book is about.”

“The sexual anatomy of the elf. Alright? It’s a book on how to best sexually use your elf. An elf. Elves. Not that...there wouldn’t...I’ll go look for another book.” Anders rushed back to the shelf. He started climbing again. He heard the patter of liquid and looked back over his shoulders. Fenris was urinating on the open book.

“Fenris!”

“When you come down, you may burn this one.”

“It’s wet!”

“We shall let it dry first.” There was laughter in Fenris’ voice. Anders opted to ignore that and continue to climb.

He found something on his fourth try on a shelf with books dedicated to the Old Gods - a slim book about Razikale. He managed to get the book off the shelf and climbed down to read it. It didn’t take long before Anders let out a string of curses.

“What did you find?”

“A book on Razikale - also known as the Dragon of Mystery. Apparently, the cult created items that could seemingly grant wishes or solve great riddles. These magical items were passed down in families and highly prized.” Anders turned a page.

“Anything about the cube we found?”

“It is one of the mystery cubes. A magical artifact kept by one of the original families in Tevinter. No idea what it does, except that this says the cubes are known to react to magical energy and cause the person who activated the cube to experience a great mystery. The spells cast by them last varying amounts of time. The person lucky enough to experience the mystery must simply wait out the spell.”

“So you are saying…”

“We have to wait it out, but it’ll end.”

“When? Does the book not say?”

Anders returned to his reading. “Some last as few as a day. Others, years.”

“Years?”

“Well, it looks like average time is a day or two. But apparently there is a cube out there that casts a spell that last for nearly a year. The person who activated it refused to discuss what happened.” Anders looked at Fenris. “Well then…”

“There has to be a cure!”

“If there is, Hawke will find it. It’s getting late and we should head back upstairs.” Fenris grunted at Anders’ words. They left the book where it lay. Fenris peed on it as well.

***

“It was nice of Hawke to bring more food,” Anders said as he climbed into the large basket by the fireplace. “There’s an entire chicken in here. How will we eat that?”

Fenris slid into the basket next to Anders, rolled his eyes, and started yanking on a chicken leg. “One piece at a time, Anders.”

“You called me Anders.”

“There is no joy in antagonizing you when nobody is around to see you get upset.” Fenris pried the chicken leg off and swung it like a two-handed sword. Anders took a step back, fell over a sausage, and landed in the container of butter. Fenris chuckled and put down the chicken leg so that he could pry the meat off the bone.

“Wait. So you only picked on me for a laugh?”

“No,” Fenris said around a mouthful of chicken. “To get your attention. Keep up.”

Anders stood and grumbled. “Well, now I’ve got butter all over my ass.”

Fenris shoved another piece of chicken into his mouth. Anders squinted at him and Fenris gave another grin. “You’re in a remarkably good mood after what we learned.”

“True. The thought of staying this tiny is distressing. I am still a little bit mad at you. After all, it was your curiosity that resulted in all this.” Fenris held up his hand as Anders started to talk. “Hear me out. That being said, Hawke’s visit was positive. She did say that corpse in the Emporium had some ideas.”

Anders was busy rubbing at his rear, the butter smearing. “I’m more concerned that he’ll have us touch something else and we’ll turn into, I don’t know, dogs.”

“Only you would fail to see the merits in being a canine.” Fenris’ voice was a lot closer than Anders had expected and he started, stumbled, and landed in the butter again. “Anders. That is for the bread.”

“Haha. You were over there by the chicken. You scared me.”

Fenris held out a hand and Anders squinted at it. “I am not going to drop you in the butter again.”

Anders huffed and took the offered hand. Fenris tugged him up, literally. One minute he was in the butter, the next he was being hauled up into a bridal carry. He wasn’t sure if he was impressed, concerned, amused, or scared. He squirmed and Fenris clutched him tighter.

“Fenris…”

“A moment. I do not wish you to fall into the butter again. There.” Fenris set him down by the chicken and handed him a piece from the leg. Anders ducked his head and bit into the chicken. “We will have to bathe. Though…” Fenris let the word linger as he walked behind Anders. “Your ass looks good covered in butter.”

Anders dropped the chicken. “What?”

“Are your ears injured?”

Anders spun around and gaped at Fenris. There was a sense of disorientation and he stumbled forward, falling against Fenris. “What?”

“Anders?”

The feeling happened again, a surge of confusion and dizziness. Anders felt his magic leap and churn. Justice began murmuring in his mind about the Fade and magical energies. “We need to get out of the basket.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re going to turn back, and I don’t want to be in here when it happens.”

They scrambled from the basket as fast as possible. Anders gave Fenris a boost up before leaping for the edge and pulling himself up and over the woven lip. Both men fell to the ground. Anders stood and ran away from the fireplace even as he staggered. Fenris followed, weaving as his markings began to flicker.

“I don’t remember this happening before,” Fenris yelled.

“We were asleep. We slept through it,” Anders yelled back.

They came to a stop in the middle of the room. The magic crested. Fenris’ markings flared, and Anders’ skin split with jagged blue as the spell broke. Suddenly, the room shrunk - or they grew. Anders caught himself on a chair as he shot up to his original height. Fenris lost his balance and landed on the floor. The magic drifted away and Fenris’ markings died down. Anders’ skin brightened briefly and then also returned to normal.

“Fenris? Are you ok?”

Fenris sighed and looked up at Anders. “No. I stepped on that pile of glass.” Anders rolled his eyes and set to healing Fenris’ foot.

***

Anders straightened his pauldrons. It felt good to be back in his clothes and holding his staff. He turned and offered a smile to Fenris, who grunted in return. “Ah. I’ve missed my coat.”

“I haven’t.”

Anders sighed. “So what, we get pants and you go back to being cranky?”

“No.” Fenris seemed to ponder his words next. “I just prefer you out of the pauldrons and coat.”

“But I like this coat,” Anders stroked his pauldrons. “And my pauldrons.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “They are ugly. And they hide your form.”

“They aren’t ugly...wait…” Anders brain stuttered to a stop. He narrowed his eyes at Fenris. “You’re flirting.”

“Mm.”

“You’ve been flirting.”

Fenris stared at him in silence.

“But we’re not. I mean, we’re friends. Of a sort. But…”

Fenris huffed and rolled his eyes. “Anders. Come here.”

Anders’ feet moved even as he counted out on his fingers. “You aren’t fond of my magic. You aren’t fond of Justice. I annoy you, frequently. We bicker about almost everything.” Anders came to a stop in front of Fenris and squeaked when Fenris wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I enjoy our discussions. I enjoy knowing I can disagree with you. I enjoy that I can push you and you will not harm me.”

“You like watching me get upset.”

“I like knowing my words have meaning. I have never had meaning beyond what my body was worth. I was a thing, not valued for my words or thoughts - only for how I looked or performed. Every argument with you is a chance to be more.” Fenris wrapped his other arm around Anders’ waist. “You show me what freedom could be.”

“And Hawke doesn’t do that?” Anders couldn’t help but wrap Fenris in his arms. His mind raced at Fenris’ words. How much had he missed in his desire to be right, to have Fenris see mages from his point of view?

Fenris rested against Anders. “Hawke is a force of nature.”

Anders parsed through the words as he held Fenris. “Wouldn’t you have rather gone through all of this with her?”

“Would she have been so understanding?”

“I like to think she would have been, yes.”

Fenris snorted. “She would have not be nearly as useful.”

Anders rubbed his hands over Fenris’ back and smiled when Fenris nestled closer. The oddity of the situation was wearing off. After spending the last two days exploring and living with Fenris, Anders felt comfortable holding him. He pressed his cheek to the side of Fenris’ head and squeezed him.

“Will you be returning to your clinic?”

Anders tightened his arms. “That bed of yours is really comfortable. Do you think there might be another one like it in the mansion?”

“Perhaps, though my bed is already free of debris.”

“True.” Anders rubbed his cheek against Fenris’ hair.

“The bed is rather large. Even with us at normal size.” Fenris’ fingers traveled up and down Anders’ spine in long sweeps.

“Mmm. Perhaps sweeping up the glass and dust would make the room homier.”

“And less dangerous for my feet.”

“And if I was to move some things into the room tonight?” Anders tried to keep the hope from building too high.

“Perhaps after we finish eating. I would not mind a walk to your clinic.” Fenris pulled back only enough so that he could offer Anders a lopsided smile. “It would be pleasant to walk up and down stairs as normal.”

“Too bad I’m wearing this coat. What will you look at while I walk?”

“I believe I can imagine what is hiding under this cloth. It is stamped into the butter.” Anders couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up, encouraged by Fenris’ husky chuckle.

***

“Is this all you have?” Fenris was holding a small worn satchel. The leather was cracked around one corner and frayed cording held it closed.

“And this pack of books. Everything else is needed here in the clinic.” Anders hefted the woven pack and checked his small room.

A narrow bed, a rickety chair, a small chest, and a small table were the only things in the room. “And you lived here?” Anders turned back to Fenris at that question. He took looked at the room with its worn furnishings. He saw it like it was his first night there and shrugged.

“I lived better here than anywhere, to be honest.”

“It’s so…” Fenris looked like he was struggling for words. “Danarius usually kept me with him. But on the nights he didn’t, I had a small closet of a room. It was much like this - a bed, a chair, a chest for my armor.”

“This is mine,” Anders responded gently. “Not because I am a slave, but because it just is. It’s the first place I’ve had that’s mine and mine alone.”

Fenris stepped in close and looked up into Anders’ face. “And you are alright with moving your belongings to the mansion?”

“There’s freedom in that.” Anders could feel the blush staining his cheeks. “Assuming, of course…”

“Assuming?”

“Maker, we spent almost two days together.. We slept next to each other. I woke up with you sprawled over me.” Anders broke the eye contact to stare at the ground instead. “You’d think I could manage this without turning into a tongue-tied mess. I used to be very good at the seduction.”

Fenris leaned against him. “Practice makes perfect, they say.”

The laugh burst from Anders and he smothered it against Fenris’ lips. It was, in a way, like coming home. Much like waking up with Fenris purring against him, the feel of Fenris’ soft lips was a surprise that was unexpected because Anders’ hadn’t realized how much he wanted it.

Fenris pulled back to stare up at Anders with wide eyes, and Anders smiled and leaned down for another kiss. Fenris chuckled and shifted to press closer, and Anders answered the movement by wrapping an arm tightly around Fenris and holding him close.

“We should return to the mansion,” Anders said, the words traced against Fenris’ lips.

Fenris groused but nodded. “Fine. But I do not wish to linger on the walk.”

“That’s fair,” Anders said. “Very understandable. Let me lock the clinic door and we can be off.”

The return was much like the walk there. Silence, comfortable and familiar, settled between the men as they traveled up lifts and stairs into the sun. The trip through Lowtown was quick. The trip through Hightown even quicker. They ignored the crowds, ignored the wide eyes of Sebastian as they past the Chantry. They didn’t see that Hawke had stepped from her mansion. They were too busy stealing glances and walking.

The door to the mansion closed with a steady click. Fenris shifted on his feet, and Anders understood his nerves. “Anders…”

“You can say no. We can stay like this for as long as you need.”

Fenris snorted and stared up at the ceiling. “I have never of my own will done this.” The words were not a surprise to Anders. They validated his theories, and he offered Fenris a gentle smile.

“Let me take care of you?”

Fenris snorted again. “You seem to do that no matter how I poke at you. Very well. Take me upstairs, Anders. I wish, very much, to kiss you again.”

“We’ll need to rethink this decor, by the way. The corpses and mushrooms should go,” Anders said as they walked up the stairs.

“After that spider attack, I may have to agree with you. I did not realize how truly run down the mansion had become.”

“Change in perspectives and all that.” Anders couldn’t help but think those words fit more than just the mansion. He held out his hand and drew Fenris into the bedroom and then against his chest. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life. Do you not notice in battle how much I trust you?” Fenris asked as he pressed against Anders.

“I had assumed it was because Hawke was there.” He held up a hand when Fenris’ opened his mouth to speak. “I know now i was wrong. Undress for me?”

“Only if you undress as well.”

Anders smiled and began to open his pauldrons and then his coat. He laid them over a chair and added his tunic. His boots were removed, tattered bandages and socks tucked into them, and his pants and smalls were pulled off. By then, Fenris was naked and on the bed.

Anders moved slowly to the bed and sat next to Fenris. He ran a hand up Fenris’ thigh to his hip and squeezed. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, say stop. I promise, I will.”

“It goes both ways,” Fenris said. Anders smiled and lay down, rolled to his side, and pulled Fenris into a long, leisurely kiss.

Anders traced Fenris’ markings with his fingers and lips - neck, shoulders, arms, fingers, torso...down to his feet. And once at his feet, he kissed each toe and rubbed Fenris’ ankles and feet with firm strokes. He continued back up Fenris’ legs to his thighs - where he stopped to drop nipping kisses on the tender skin.

Fenris slid his hands through Anders’ hair and gasped - sounds soft and nearly silent, words that were mouthed breaths of pleading that grew in pitch as Anders’ lips and tongue found his cock and laved it with careful attention.

The solid weight on his tongue had Anders moaning and rutting against the bed. Fenris was smooth and soft - his skin a warm ochre that glowed in the beams of sunlight that filtered through the hole in the roof. Anders let Fenris’ cock slip from his lips and chased the beams of sunlight with his lips - hips, flat stomach, chest - to dark nipples puckered and sensitive. Fenris groaned when Anders flicked them, gasped when Anders’ suckled them both.

“Please,” the word was thready and faded into a gasp of surprised bliss when Anders lapped up his neck. “More…”

Anders chuckled, the sound low and intimate, and nibbled up Fenris’ ear. “How much more?” He breathed the word against the reddened tip.

“Everything.”

Anders hummed and slid from the bed. He bent and picked up a pouch that held vials of healing potions. One was plucked from the bunch and Anders’ returned to the bed to straddle Fenris’ hips. He said nothing but pulled the cork from the vial and dipped his fingers into the potion.

He stared into Fenris’ eyes as he worked a finger into himself - as he rocked back and pleasure bloomed up his spine. Fenris’ eyes were lust-glazed and wide. His strong hands found Anders’ hips and gripped him, rubbed tiny circles into the sensitive skin there, and Anders pulled his hand back, dipped two fingers into the potion, and went back to opening himself.

The second finger intensified the pleasure. The third added the sweet burn of stretch. Anders ground back on his fingers and gasped. Fenris’ fingers tightened and he gasped at that as well. “I’m alright, Fenris. It feels good.”

“It does?”

Anders felt a stab of sadness at the question. “I will show you sometime. If you wish.”

“Not right now?” Fenris slid his hands up Anders’ side and then around to stroke his nipples.

“No. I’ve got other plans for right now.” Anders arched into the touch and pulled his fingers from himself. “Maker...I may not last. Please say I may touch you.”

“Yes. Of course. You have been...Kaffas!” The word exploded from Fenris as Anders stroked healing potion over his cock. While Fenris was still gasping, Anders tossed the vial to the side and began to slide down onto his cock.

Anders groaned with Fenris and slowly settled down over Fenris. Both men closed their eyes, both breathing slowly. Anders chuckled at the look of rapture on Fenris’ face and rocked forward. He could feel his eyes crossing. “Oh Maker.”

Fenris opened his eyes at that. “Is it...good?”

“The best, Fenris. You feel amazing.” Anders leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Fenris’ lips while he rocked his hips. Fenris slid his hands into Anders’ hair and held him close, nipped his lips, and rolled his hips up to meet Anders’ rocking movement.

It was too much and not enough. The light from the hole in the roof caught Fenris’ eyes and set them sparkling - or maybe it was the tears threatening to fall from Anders’ eyes that did it. Something in his chest shifted and cracked as he moved, as he watched Fenris experience a pleasure he had never felt before, as Anders felt a closeness he had missed for years now.

They rode the line of pleasure, both teetering right at the edge until Fenris gave a sudden choked cry and spilled into Anders. The pulsing warmth had Anders sitting up and stroking himself rapidly, gasping in sudden delight as Fenris’ hands pulled his away from his cock and took over.

When he came, it was Fenris’ name that he groaned. He panted, his head hanging limply as he swayed. Fenris chuckled and dragged a finger through the mess on his chest. Anders looked up in time to see him lick his finger. “Fenris…”

“It is not as bad as I remember.”

“Maker…”

“I would like to pleasure you with my mouth sometime.”

Anders shivered as heat pulsed through him. “I’ve released a monster upon Thedas.”

Fenris growled playfully and bucked up, unseating Anders. He grabbed Anders, pulled him down, and rolled them both over. Pulling himself up on his arms, Fenris teasingly snapped his teeth at Anders. “A monster, am I?”

“A handsome, cuddly one.”

Fenris let out a purr and snuggled against Anders’ chest. “Can we stay like this?”

“Only if you don’t mind an itchy mess when we wake,” Anders said as he pulled on the blanket half-off the bed.

“Mmm. We can bathe after. I just...”

“I understand.” Anders draped the blanket over them before wrapping his arms around Fenris. Fenris mumbled something else and snuggled down into sleep. Anders stared up through the hole in the roof and watched a bird fly past. When the first purr rumbled from Fenris, he smiled.

***

  
They were in the bathing room when Hawke arrived. They had just enough notification to grab flannels before she was pushing through the door.

“Do you not know how to knock?” Fenris growled.

“Course I do, Mam taught me well. However, your door looks like it might break if I knock too hard.” Hawke grinned and leaned against the door jam. “Look at you two - bathing together like bosom buddies.”

“Can we not do this while I’m still wet?” Anders grumbled.

Hawke waggled her eyebrows. “I don’t know. Can we?”

“How did you even know we were back to normal?” Fenris asked while pushing past Hawke. He ignored her grumbles as he grabbed his leggings and retreated behind a tattered dressing screen.

“You two walked right past me. Past Sebastian as well. He was following you two and saw me. I figured Anders would prefer the good Brother to not barge in, so I said I’d come on over. You two were, um, occupied...so I came back.”

“Oh Maker,” Anders groaned.

“I don’t care if you two are playing hide the sausage. In fact, I’m tickled that you are. I’m more interested in how you became normal sized again.” Hawke took a seat in a chair and shot Anders a pointed look.

He sighed and grabbed his pants before shuffling behind the tattered dressing screen. He shared a commiserating look with Fenris and pulled on his pants. When he felt at least partially decent, he stepped back around the screen and took a seat across from Hawke.

“Spill it.”

“The cube is part of some weird Old God cult. It’s one of their items of mystery. The spell had a random length of time, which I guess was two days.” Anders watched Fenris hesitate by the screen and then meander across the room to stand by him. Anders looked up at Fenris, who gave a rather wry smile and leaned against the chair.

“This one’s mystery must be something about seeing the world from a different point of view. I suppose it could have changed us more feminine or made us dwarves or such. It could have been worse,” Fenris said.

“Well, I’d say it worked. You two look content together.”

Anders glanced up at Fenris. “Just promise me you won’t go blabbing this. We’ll tell people in our own way.”

“No fun. The look on Varric’s face would be worth any momentary discomfort.” Hawke looked blissful before sobering. “I suppose it’s for the best that the spell just wore off. Xenon had some hypothesis about a counterspell and Sandal put this runestone together. Now we’ll never know what it does.”

Anders stared at the blue and red runestone. The colors chased each other through the carved symbol - a shimmering rainbow of power that drew Anders’ interest. Before he could think, he reached out to touch the stone.

“Anders!” Fenris barked.

Anders stiffened and then sat back. He folded his hands on his lap and squinted at the stone instead. The light pulsed in time with his heartbeat, the call of the spell alluring. Justice whispered something about change and the Fade. He tightened his hands on themselves. “I think it best to have Sandal dismantle his little gift.”

“You sure? Merrill might want it.”

“Do you really want a tiny Merrill or perhaps...an extra-large Merrill?”

Hawke frowned and put the runestone away. “You make a valid point.” She patted her pouch once before standing. “Well then. I expect to see you both at the Hanged Man tonight. Don’t make me send Isabela and Varric after you.”

“We will be there, Hawke.”

She hesitated and then hopped up, flashed them both a smile, and nearly skipped from the room. Anders watched her go, exhaling in relief when her and that runestone were gone. He could feel Fenris’ gaze on him - a heavy blanket that weighted him to the chair.

“I didn’t touch it.”

Fenris’ voice was right in his ear. “You thought about it.”

“But I didn’t. I listened to your words of wisdom.” Anders shivered at the warm puff of air over his ear from Fenris’ laugh.

“I only said your name.”

“It was enough. I didn’t want to hurt you again.” Anders turned his head and met Fenris’ gaze. “I never want to hurt you.”

Anders watched as Fenris’ eyes widened. A smile tugged at Fenris’ lips and before Anders could blink, he found himself with a lap full of elf. “So...the Hanged Man tonight…”

“Mmhmm,” Anders hummed as he nuzzled Fenris’ neck.

“We shall sit together. If you wish.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And if they tease us, just laugh.”

“Right. Laugh.”

“And then we will come home and you can hold me as we sleep.” Fenris leaned into Anders’ embrace.

Anders squeezed Fenris. “It’s terrible, I know, but I’m rather glad we got made tiny.” Fenris’ grunt had him chuckling. His chuckle was cut off when Fenris pressed his lips to Anders’.

“You talk too much,” Fenris mumbled between kisses. Anders hummed and happily returned the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on Tumblr in The Pillow Fort as warriormaggie.


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